Page 9 of Ruin

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I unbutton his shirt with steady hands.

That's the first thing he'll notice—that they don't shake anymore.

A year ago they trembled every time I touched him, my body caught between terror and want so tangled I couldn't separate them.

Now my fingers work each button with precision, and when I spread the fabric open and drag my nails down his chest—slowly, hard enough to leave red welts—the only thing trembling is the muscle in his jaw.

"New trick?" he murmurs.

"New everything."

I bite his lower lip. Not a graze. A bite.

Hard enough that I feel the skin split and copper flood my tongue.

He inhales sharply, and his fingers tighten on my hips to the point of pain.

Good. I want him to feel it.

His patience snaps exactly when I want it to.

He stands in one explosive motion—my legs wrapping around his waist on instinct—and carries me to the bed.

Black silk sheets.

My back hits them hard enough to knock the air from my lungs.

Before I can recover, he's pinning my wrists above my head with one hand, the other fisting in my hair and pulling my head back.

Exposing the collar.

He runs his tongue along the edge of the diamonds.

Slowly, tracing the line between cold stone and hot skin.

Then he bites down on the tendon of my neck, right above the clasp, and the sound I make is half gasp, half moan, and I couldn't have stopped it if I tried.

I don't try.

He hooks a finger through the collar, uses it to tilt my chin up, forcing my eyes to his. "This stays on."

"It's been on for a year. I'm not taking it off now."

The sound he makes—low, guttural, more animal than human—sends a pulse of heat straight to that spot between my thighs.

He doesn't bother with the zipper.

Just grips the neckline of my dress with both hands and tears.

The fabric splits down the center.

Cool air, then his mouth. Everywhere.

He strips my underwear with his teeth.

Drags the lace down my legs, and the scrape of his stubble against my inner thighs makes my back arch off the sheets.

He pins my thighs open with his forearms—firm, unyielding—and presses his mouth against me.